


My Cherie Amour

by Shadow_Of_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Nicknames, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-16
Updated: 2010-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Of_Castiel/pseuds/Shadow_Of_Castiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel tries something new and surprises the hell out of Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Cherie Amour

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a Stevie Wonder song, My Cherie Amour.

The first time that it happened, it took Dean so off guard as to make the hunter wonder if he’d misheard. It occurred when they were in the diner, Sam sitting across from him with a salad while Castiel sat next to Dean himself, body so close his thigh was touching Dean’s. The hunter had no wish to move away, too comfortable with Castiel’s closeness to shuffle even an inch away, despite not quite having enough room to lift his burger to his lips, at least not without jogging his elbow against the table or against the soft yielding surface of Castiel’s body. Sam had found their closeness a topic of great hilarity for about five minutes at first, until Dean pointedly kicked Sam on the kneecap sharply to the point where Sam could no longer feel the whole portion of his lower left leg. The situation soon lost all trace of humor for the younger hunter, soon discovering hidden depths within the leaves of his salad and the spirals of his pasta.

Dean took a few mouthfuls of his burger before deciding that the bread and meat concoction was too dry and he glanced up at Castiel. Dean had to smile at the way that Castiel kept staring alternately between Dean himself and the burger that the hunter held within grease speckled fingers.

“Pass me the ketchup, will ya, sweetheart?” Dean asked, as he smiled around his most current mouthful of bread and meat.

“Of course, honey bun,” Castiel said, without even a blink.

Across the table, Sam choked on a particularly offensive piece of lettuce as he struggled to breathe past the surprise of Castiel’s words. If not for that, then Dean would have put Castiel’s words down to imagination.

“What did you just say?” Dean asked, as he gaped openly at the angel.

“You asked for the ketchup, so I said of course,” Castiel replied, head tilted to the side and brow furrowed as though he thought he’d done something particularly wrong.

“No, that’s not what you - you know what, Cas? Never mind. Just pass me the damn sauce,” Dean groused, as across the table from them, Sam relearned how to breathe.

The second time that it happened, Dean and Castiel were alone, driving down the street in an otherwise silent car.

“There’s the motel, muffin,” Castiel said, pointing one slender hand towards the building they were looking for.

His words were partially obscured by the heavy sounds of Metallica pouring from the Impala’s speakers, leading Dean to surmise he’d misheard his lover again.

The third time it happened, Dean, Castiel and Sam were in a grocery store, stocking up on provisions for the next few days of travelling. Dean had been trying to coax the angel into picking out some food for himself, plucking choice items from the shelves and presenting them to the angel for his perusal. Each and every time, Castiel turned even the best pie away, a consternated expression passing from his face to Dean’s.

“Come on, sweetheart, there must be something you want,” Dean said, sounding more than a little pissed with his lover’s inability to just choose something already.

“There is something I want, honey bun,” Castiel said, with the vaguest of smiles.

“You want a honey bun?” Dean asked, in confusion. “I don’t think they stock honey buns in here, Cas.”

“I don’t wish to have a honey bun, Dean,” Castiel said, with some obvious confusion.

“You just said you did,” Dean said, with a confused shrug and pleading look for help directed to Sam.

Sam unfortunately was facing the other way, stifling his laughs to even see Dean’s plea for help and the elder Winchester swore beneath his breath over his brother’s lack of help, as per usual.

“What do you want then?” Dean asked, as he turned back to the still expressionless Castiel.

“A pizza,” Castiel said, randomly.

“Pizza? You want pizza? You do realize we can’t cook pizzas where we’re going, don’t you, Cas?” Dean asked, eyebrows lifting over baffled green eyes.

“Oh just let him have his pizza, Dean,” Sam said, over Castiel’s shoulder. “We can order in a pizza of that’s what he wants. Don’t be so fussy, Dean. The minute he actually picks something he wants, and you grumble.”

Dean looked as though he wanted to tear his brother a new one by the look on his face and he reigned in his first response with an effort, when a politely smiling store worker stopped to ask if they needed help.

“No, ma’am, we’re good,” Sam said, before Dean could start in on her. “Thanks.”

The lady walked on, without paying further attention to the tense trio standing in the aisle.

“You want pizza? Seriously?” Dean asked Castiel, eyebrows still raised to stare at the angel.

“Yes, Dean, that is what I require. A ham and pineapple one,” the angel said, with a soft smile at his lover.

“A ham and - okay dude, whatever you want,” Dean replied, when Sam shoved him pointedly in the shoulder and hard, before the elder Winchester could protest that only girls ate ham and pineapple pizza. “We’ll get you one, I promise.”

Castiel nodded and satisfaction and remained quiet for the rest of their time in the grocery store. Upon returning to the motel, Dean made good on his promise to Castiel and ordered him the largest ham and pineapple pizza the local pizzeria offered. And if he ate half the pizza himself, then he wasn’t about to say a thing about it.

The fourth time that happened, Dean and Castiel were alone, curled up together beneath the comforting warmth of the motel room’s covers, Sam firmly instilled in his own motel room for the night. Dean had reached up and started to caress Castiel’s cheek tenderly, mapping out every inch of the angel’s face and the soft curves of his ripe lips when the angel spoke.

“I love you, my cherie amour,” he murmured, eyes staring directly into Dean’s.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Dean burst out, barely registering the fact that Castiel had said he loved him for the first time.

Castiel barely seemed to notice. Instead he tilted his head at Dean, brows pulled low over his eyes and creasing the skin between their dark shapes gently. His lips pursed into a thoughtful pout as he regarded Dean for a few seconds.

“Keep doing what, Dean?” Castiel finally asked.

“Keep calling me odd names. First it was honey bun, then I’m sure I heard a muffin somewhere and now I don’t know what you just said to me,” Dean said, looking as though he didn’t know whether to be mortally offended or not.

“I just called you my dear love in French,” Castiel supplied, deep voice surprisingly tender and intimate.

“French? For what again?” Deana asked, unable to stop the pleased grin from passing across his face, finally beginning to catch a clue as to what the angel had been attempting to do.

“My dear love,” Castiel repeated patiently. “It’s a term of endearment.”

“Yeah, I know what it is, dude. You wanna tell me why you’re quoting Stevie Wonder songs and items of food at me all week,” Dean said, as his grin began to grow and spread towards Castiel.

“You are always calling me sweetheart, Dean,” Castiel said, face warm and forming soft lines as his mouth curved at the corners in the biggest smile the hunter was ever going to see in his lover. “I wanted to return the favor and call you something nice as well.”

“Look, you don’t have to call me anything, sweetheart. Just Dean will do,” Dean said, with an affectionate grin at his lover before pressing a kiss to Castiel’s willing mouth.

The angel returned the kiss, before he pulled away, not to be deterred when he knew he had something important to say. He tried to ignore the insistent press of Dean’s dick hard against his thigh, concentrating upon the hunter’s face instead.

“It is very important that I find a term of endearment to call you by, Dean. It is not sufficient to merely refer to you by your name,” Castiel said, firmly. “That does not please me at all.”

“Oh it doesn’t?” Dean teased as he tried to lean in for a kiss again.

“I am serious, Dean. You call me sweetheart all the time. Why can I not do the same for you?” Castiel asked, as he pushed Dean away slightly with a gentle, and forgiving hand.

“Well, what did Jimmy call his wife?” Dean tried, deciding to play along with the angel’s current obsession so that they could progress to love making all the quicker.

“Honey or Ames, I believe,” Castiel replied.

“Ames wouldn’t suit me at all,” Dean laughed, eyes sparkling in amusement. “And Honey’s too personal to his wife anyway. Let’s pick something else. What was that Stevie Wonder song again? The French one.”

“I don’t know Stevie Wonder, but the French term was Ma Cherie Amour,” Castiel supplied. “Do you like that?”

And surprisingly, Dean discovered he did. A pleased, surprisingly warm and fuzzy feeling swept through him and he grinned at his lover. Castiel watched him intently, liquid blue gaze brightening when he saw Dean grinning, gaze accepting of Castiel’s choice of endearment.

“I’ve never had anyone call me anything nice before,” Dean confessed, as he cuddled closer to his lover again. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel merely smiled that ethereal smile that was barely there yet spoke volumes anyway. Dean nuzzled the angel’s neck affectionately before pressing a kiss to Castiel’s neck.

“Say it again, Cas,” Dean murmured against Castiel’s throat. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I love you, ma cherie amour,” Castiel murmured into Dean’s ear, voice all the more intimate for his low pitched volume.

Dean groaned and eased Castiel onto his back, settling himself between the angel’s spread legs. Castiel stared up at him, one slender hand raised to lay upon Dean’s cheek. The hunter stared down at him and smiled, one single tear tracking watering a tight line against his cheek. Castiel wiped it away with the pad of his thumb, before kissing the end of his thumb to remove the tear. Dean scrubbed at his eyes then, not caring whether the angel thought him a girl for being so obvious in his crying. He leant down and pressed needy kisses against Castiel’s receptive mouth, lips soft and warm against his own.

“I love you, my dear love,” Dean whispered, using the English translation to good effect, before penetrating his lover with on shuddering push.

Castiel threw his head back against the pillow, neck straining and arched in the light as Dean sank deep inside him, until his length was fully sheathed inside Castiel’s tight channel. Their bodies locked in that position for a while, muscles trembling before dean thrust into his lover again, hips buffeting harshly against hips. Castiel met him thrust for thrust, clinging greedily to Dean’s body as they fucked urgently upon a wildly creaking bed.

Dean had the brief thought that they might be keeping Sam awake next door, with their loud groans, invasive shouts and harshly hammering bed against the wall and he found he didn’t care. This time was for Castiel and for himself, and if they couldn’t make love in their own time, then he’d be damned. Castiel was perhaps the first good thing that had happened to him in a long time, and to now have pet name bestowed willingly upon his head, despite several false starts and laughable attempts, made Dean feel good.

He soon came, flooding Castiel’s channel with thick spurts of his release, body thrumming with arousal and overwhelming pleasure, lips stretched wide as his climax rode him to the very last. Castiel’s hand whipped harshly over the contours of his own thick shaft, hanging thick and heavy and aching between his legs until he covered them both with pulsing waves of his semen pumping from his dick.

Dean eased himself away, breathing hard yet smiling in satisfaction, knowing that their love-making was always the best he’d ever had. Castiel draped himself across Dean’s body, cradling the fragile human life to his when Dean settled into his body. Dean knew that he was going to ask Castiel to call him his new name forevermore, Sam’s laughter be damned.

~fini~


End file.
